


Self-Assured

by ToxicPineapple



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Background Oumota, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Introspection, Melancholy, Post canon, Post-Game, Post-New Dangan Ronpa V3, Pre-Relationship, Roommates, Virtual Reality, implied romantic feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: “Tenko is still worked up,” Chabashira chirped, as she dumped a crinkly plastic bag down on the coffee table with a startlingly loud thud. Harukawa didn’t flinch, but she felt her expression becoming incredulous. What the hell? “But she had an idea this morning and she had to go act on it right away! She thinks it’s a really good idea, too, otherwise she would’ve at least tried to stop and explain to Harukawa-san first.”It was weird seeing Chabashira so self-assured about something that didn’t involve emotional expression, or, in a different lifetime, Neo-Aikido.“Well?” Harukawa released a breath, giving Chabashira what she considered to be a toned-down but still skeptical raise of her eyebrows, acting like it didn’t make her just the slightest bit happy, seeing Chabashira so excited. “What’s your idea, then? You’re gonna tell me, right?”---Three years after the simulation, Harukawa and Chabashira heal together.
Relationships: Chabashira Tenko/Harukawa Maki
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24
Collections: August 2020 Server Gift Exchange





	Self-Assured

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tenkaede](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenkaede/gifts).



> hi beanie i'm so sorry FLKDSJFLKDSJ there are going to be three other chapters in this! my head is just totally empty so i'm posting this on the deadline and then will be writing you more :')
> 
> this is also your birthday fic so happy early birthday i hate you you tall bitch

Harukawa’s train of thought was cut off somewhat abruptly by the slam that came from the front door of the apartment opening. She let out an exasperated sigh, and decidedly put her book down. She hadn’t really been reading it, anyway, it’s just that the feeling of the pages underneath her fingertips was nice, a bit rougher than she was expecting, and it was… a way to pass the time, while Chabashira was out doing whatever it was she had rushed off to do around five hours before. (It was ten in the morning, now, as Harukawa sat on the couch, her legs tucked snug underneath her and her back resting against the cushions.) Not that Harukawa needed constant stimulation to survive, or anything, but the apartment got awfully quiet in Chabashira’s absence.

...She used to like quiet, before the game. Or at least that’s what the personality  _ Danganronpa  _ gave her enjoyed, the silence, the peacefulness of it. There was something safe, something comforting about a quiet room. Loud rooms made it impossible for her to get her bearings. Loud rooms meant she couldn’t hear it so well, if somebody was sneaking up behind her, if she or someone who she cared about was in danger. And the noise made it impossible for her to think.

That was still the truth, but nowadays Harukawa’s goal, more often than not, was to not allow herself to think. The silence gave room for the thoughts to creep back in, the memories, of Akamatsu hanging over a piano and Hoshi threatening to expose her and Ouma rasping out a wheezy laugh as he hung from her grasp and Momota coughing up a lung as that spaceship drilled into the ground. Not to mention the ones that weren’t even real, the ones that didn’t even happen, of hours without food and water and relentless pain, and throwing up the first time she killed someone, when in reality Harukawa never even killed anybody at all--

No, Harukawa didn’t like the quiet. And it wasn’t as though Chabashira was talking all the time, when she was around, but she had a way of filling a room, of making all the ugly thoughts and feelings fall away while she was there. It was comforting and familiar in a way that Harukawa couldn’t articulate. The effect reminded her of Momota, in a sense, except that Chabashira hadn’t forgiven (hadn’t  _ fallen in love with)  _ Ouma Kokichi of all people, so Harukawa could actually stand to be around her.

More than that, even, couldn’t bear to be without her most times, hence the book.

Harukawa lifted her gaze, and started to stand up, but she was barely to the edge of the couch before Chabashira was standing in the doorway, panting like she had just run up all the stairs (she developed claustrophobia after the simulation, after dying under a basket, so she could never take the elevator, but that didn’t mean she had to  _ run,  _ the moron), resting a hand on the wall and  _ beaming _ at Harukawa like she was the brightest thing she’d seen all day. It made Harukawa’s face warm a little, and she averted her gaze.

Between gasping breaths, Chabashira sputtered out, “Hi,” pant, “Harukawa-san!” and sounded as energetic as ever, even winded as she was. Harukawa rolled her eyes, but looked at Chabashira again, as a treat. “Sorry Tenko was gone for so long, she didn’t think it would be like that!” She cleared her throat as she started to catch her breath, tugging on that choker that Harukawa had only once seen her without. Her cheeks were flushed from exertion. “But Tenko just got so excited, she couldn’t leave so quick, and then traffic was really bad, so--”

“It’s fine, Chabashira,” Harukawa rolled her eyes a second time. “I’m your roommate, not your keeper. It doesn’t bother me how long you’re out.” Or, well, it did, but it shouldn’t’ve. Harukawa wasn’t going to say as much, at any rate. “What were you so worked up about, anyway?” Her hands made their way up to her ponytail, and she tugged on it. Her hair was so impossibly heavy, her neck tended to hurt a bit when she had it up for too long, but she didn’t like the way it felt when she wore it down, hot and intense around her neck. Harukawa really just couldn’t win with textures.

“Tenko is  _ still  _ worked up,” Chabashira chirped, as she dumped a crinkly plastic bag down on the coffee table with a startlingly loud  _ thud.  _ Harukawa didn’t flinch, but she felt her expression becoming incredulous. What the hell? “But she had an idea this morning and she had to go act on it right away! She thinks it’s a really good idea, too, otherwise she would’ve at least tried to stop and explain to Harukawa-san first.”

It was weird seeing Chabashira so self-assured about something that didn’t involve emotional expression, or, in a different lifetime,  _ Neo-Aikido. _

(Not that Neo-Aikido was ever a thing, not that Chabashira ever had a master or ever fought crime under the moonlight; it was all fake, fake, fake, just artificial, plastic memories that were put into their heads, that  _ Team Danganronpa  _ didn’t even do them the courtesy of taking back out again afterwards. Chabashira never talked about it, not anymore, but she didn’t seem upset about it, either, and Harukawa couldn’t understand that. Why  _ wouldn’t  _ she be upset abut it?)

“Well?” Harukawa released a breath, giving Chabashira what she considered to be a toned-down but still skeptical raise of her eyebrows, acting like it didn’t make her just the slightest bit happy, seeing Chabashira so excited. “What’s your idea, then? You’re gonna tell me, right?”

“Of course! It’s something for Harukawa-san and Tenko to do together!” Chabashira wiggled a little bit in her spot at that, and Harukawa thought it was a little cute. More than a little cute. Chabashira was obnoxiously cute, actually. Insufferably cute. Ugh. “So, last night Tenko was thinking about how much she misses--” there was a barely noticeable hitch in Chabashira’s breath as she spoke; a slight pause, “--being active, and doing martial arts!”  _ Neo-Aikido,  _ Harukawa thought, but didn’t say. “Tenko does best when she’s working out every day, and she really hasn’t recently!”

“Sometimes you get up in the middle of the night and pace around the apartment,” Harukawa pointed out, her voice somewhat flat. “And you always take the five flights of stairs up here instead of taking an elevator. I think that’s fitness.”

Chabashira giggled slightly. “Harukawa-san probably has higher standards than that,” she said, and she didn’t elaborate further, but Harukawa knew she was referencing the game. And she was right, anyway, so Harukawa couldn’t be upset about it. The girl who she was in the game, who  _ Team Danganronpa  _ made her into… she had to be in perfect condition at all times, couldn’t be winded by a quick sprint, had to be agile and forceful and controlled. Even before the game, Harukawa supposed that she was still pretty strong. When she woke up from the simulation, she could feel it in herself, in her muscles and in her core. The girl who signed up for  _ Danganronpa  _ kept in shape.

But that wasn’t who Harukawa was anymore, nor was  _ Little Miss Assassin  _ a person anymore, either. “What’s your point?” Harukawa asked, looking at Chabashira, her lips pressing together. Chabashira seemed to be made slightly nervous at this; she turned her head away and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, clearing her throat. Harukawa felt bad for making her anxious, but she needed Chabashira to stop dodging the point of this apparent five in the morning revelation, so Harukawa could figure out what the hell was in that bag Chabashira just put down.

After a pause, Chabashira answered, “Tenko thinks that she and Harukawa-san should-- should start working out again!” in a bit of a rush, but when Harukawa didn’t immediately shut her down, she perked up and kept speaking. “It’s sad how we just sit around the apartment all the time! It’s like both of us are-- are stagnating, huh? Tenko can’t remember the last time she went so long without trying to improve her mental fortitude and doing some kind of physical activity! And Harukawa-san is probably the same, too, since she… uh…” Chabashira trailed off, tapping her index fingers together, then picked herself up again. “Anyway! Tenko bought some dumbbells from the fitnesse store near here-- she had to dodge a bunch of men--” it seemed she worked very hard to cut off the later part of the word  _ menaces,  _ “--while she was there, but it was worth it! Tenko thought she and Harukawa-san could work out here, rather than at a gym, where--”

“Chabashira, hold on,” Harukawa cut off her rambling, sitting up straighter on the couch. She was frowning. She wasn’t quite sure why she was frowning.

...Well, know, she knew why she was frowning. It was because Chabashira was asking to train. And that, in essence, was so  _ familiar  _ to her. She hadn’t heard a request like that since Momota in the simulation. Only now, when Chabashira said it, she didn’t feel that rush of irritation that she felt towards Momota. She felt, rather… a bit nauseous. She lifted a hand to her temple, trying to figure out how to articulate how she was feeling. She had never been  _ good at that.  _ That was always Chabashira’s strong suit.

“Why do we need to keep in shape, anyway?” Harukawa reached back to tug on her ponytail. She pulled on it a little bit too hard, but didn’t wince. She was used to pain. “The person who you remember working out all the time isn’t even real. You don’t have to do  _ Neo-Aikido  _ or anything stupid--” Chabashira flinched, and Harukawa felt guilt mixing in with the nausea swirling in the pit of her stomach, “--anymore. And I don’t have any reason to stay fit, either. It’s not like I’m going to be going out and killing anybody.”

Chabashira was frowning, Harukawa realised, but her expression softened, (though it was already soft in the first place), her brows tilting downward at the edges. “Tenko doesn’t want to do--  _ N-Neo Aikido,” _ she said, with what looked to be a great deal of effort.

“Chabashira--”

“Harukawa-san doesn’t have to apologise!” Chabashira cut her off before her mouth could even form the words, and Harukawa wondered if she was really that transparent, if Chabashira could figure out what she was going to say before she was saying it. “We should stop walking on eggshells around the topic, anyway. Three years is a long enough time that Tenko should be able to just say it.  _ Neo-Aikido  _ wasn’t… real,” and Chabashira shuddered a little when she said it, but then kept speaking, her expression determined. “And that’s not why Tenko wants us to work out together! She  _ definitely  _ doesn’t want Harukawa-san to have to go out and make her fake past a reality, either! It’s more like…” Chabashira paused, her expression scrunching up for a moment. “Tenko wants… us to move on!”

“To move on,” Harukawa repeated, blinking.

“Yeah!” Chabashira nodded, her green ribbon flopping with the action. “Tenko knows we’ve… gotten away, and stopped talking to most of them,” because Harukawa couldn’t stand most of them, nobody but Yumeno and Saihara and Akamatsu, really, and Saihara was so caught up in his love for killers and Yumeno was so busy holding hands with a cult leader and Akamatsu was… Akamatsu was, fading, it felt like sometimes, like every Facetime they did together would be the last one before Akamatsu disappeared completely, and Harukawa didn’t know how to handle it so she just didn’t, “but we haven’t done anything since then! We’ve just been, sitting! And some sitting is good! But not for three whole years!”

Harukawa opened and closed her mouth. She… wanted to object, instinctively, to tell Chabashira that they were fine as they were, that everything was fine as it had been, there was no need to start doing anything new. The only thing that stopped her, really, was that that couldn’t have been further from the truth; they weren’t fine, nothing was fine, Harukawa was almost desperate for something to change, for something to be better, so that she could find some way to heal, to actually be okay, for the first time in her broken, broken life.

She was just afraid of doing that, was all. Afraid of changing. Afraid of starting something new, for fear that it went poorly. For fear that something happened between her and Chabashira while they were doing it, and then Chabashira… left, just like everybody else did. Just like her best friend from the orphanage was never really--

…

There wasn’t any real point in thinking about that.

“Fine,” Harukawa breathed out, instead, averting her gaze. “We can do… this fitness stuff, or whatever. It doesn’t make a big difference to me anyway.” She rubbed the back of her neck, pressing her lips together and poofing out her cheeks. “Long as you don’t slack off. It has to be both of us.”

“Tenko wouldn’t slack off!” Chabashira said, immediately, her tone almost suggesting offense at the insinuation, but a moment later her expression brightened, and then her hands were taking Harukawa’s, and they were larger than Harukawa’s were, and much, much warmer. Much, much softer. “Thank you so much, Harukawa-san! Tenko  _ definitely _ won’t let you down!” Her green eyes were wide, and bright, and Harukawa’s face flushed with the sudden proximity. With the sudden contact. “We can start tonight, huh! But Tenko will make breakfast first!”

Snorting, Harukawa asked, “Without burning down the kitchen?”

“Tenko will try her best!” Chabashira returned, which wasn’t a promise, really, but Harukawa found she didn’t care so much. The only thing she really felt as Chabashira retreated was a slight longing in her chest, for Chabashira’s hands, soft and warm as they were, to be back around hers once again.

**Author's Note:**

> what a way to kick off the gift exchange posting


End file.
